Why Bones Shouldn't Drink
by redrider6612
Summary: June CBPC entry.  Brennan gets drunk at Angela's engagement celebration and Booth takes her home.  B&B friendship with a hint of more. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Why Bones Shouldn't Drink

The early morning sunlight filtered into the bedroom through the thin curtains, casting an eerie light onto the bed where Booth lay. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to remember how he'd ended up in bed with Brennan. He knew it was her without looking—he'd know her particular scent anywhere. She was still wearing the slacks and top she'd been wearing last night, thank God. Turning his head on the pillow, he was startled at how close her face was. A frown marred her brow and her lips moved as she dreamed.

Last night they had all met for drinks at a bar to celebrate Hodgins' and Angela's engagement. Angela had introduced Brennan to a tasty drink called a Long Island iced tea which didn't taste nearly as potent as it was. He'd lost count after the first couple.

"C'mon, Bren, have another. It's only ten o'clock—the night's young!" Angela coaxed with an impish gleam in her eye.

Brennan stood up too quickly and Booth steadied her as she wobbled unsteadily. "Ten? I need to go home. I need to get to the lab early tomorrow—"

Angela rolled her eyes. "On a Saturday? Hey, I think you can miss ONE Saturday. Don't be a party-pooper, Bren. I'm only getting engaged once."

"Maybe Bones is right," Booth said as he continued to hold his partner's arm. She was blinking up at him with a dazed look.

"Are you gonna take me home?" she asked suddenly. "Please? "

Booth couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. He never guessed she would be such a cute drunk. "Sure, Bones, I'll take ya home."

She smiled up at him. "Good. 'Cuz I only want a cute guy to take me home, okay?"

Booth's grin grew wider. "Anything you say, Bones. Do you wanna go now?" he asked, hoping the answer was yes. He didn't want to have to carry her to the car. Unfortunately, the bartender had just put another Long Island at her elbow. She turned to look at it.

"Oh, look, I have another one. Mustn't waste it," she declared.

Angela giggled. "She can't hold her hard liquor at all," she told Booth.

Brennan took a healthy gulp of her drink then waved the glass recklessly. "Not so!" she declared. "See, holdin' it jus' fine. Not spillin' a drop!"

They all laughed at her unintentional joke and she grinned too.

"Hey, Angie, maybe you should let him go ahead and take her home," Hodgins said in a low voice. "She's gonna have a wicked hangover in the morning as it is."

Angela sighed. "You're right. She's just so much fun like this, so uninhibited." Angela smiled at Booth. "Have fun getting her home. What I wouldn't give to go along just to watch."

Booth rolled his eyes. Angela had a strange idea of 'fun'. "C'mon, Bones, let's get you home," Booth coaxed, sliding an arm around her waist. She gulped down the last of her drink then turned to smile up at him woozily.

"I like when you call me Bones," she told him, leaning into his side.

"Where is a video recorder when you want one," he muttered. She grabbed him around the waist as her feet betrayed her when she tried to take her first steps.

"Tell them to hold the floor still, Booth. I'm tryin' to walk here," she said fractiously.

Booth chuckled. "Okay, just hang onto me in case it moves again. I won't let you fall," he promised as he helped her toward the door.

"I know," she said in a serious tone that almost sounded sober. "You always take care of me," she said in a curiously sad voice.

Booth looked down at her in surprise. 'Uh-oh, looks like the mood is swinging to the maudlin end of the spectrum.' He tried to pick up their speed, but Brennan seemed to be having a hard time controlling her legs. Finally reaching the SUV, he propped her next to the passenger door so he could dig out his keys. She started sliding down just as he got the door open.

"Whoops!" she said with a grin as he grabbed her under the armpits and hoisted her up into the cab. He locked the door before closing it so she wouldn't fall out. Jogging around the vehicle, he got in and started it up. He glanced over to find her struggling with the seatbelt. Her hand/eye coordination was messed up, so she kept missing the buckle. Chuckling softly, he reached over to help her. When it clicked she looked up at him. "Thanks, Booth. You're s'good t'me."

He smiled softly in return. "Don't mention it. Now, if you start feeling sick and need me to pull over, just say so, okay?" He ducked his head a little, trying to make eye contact.

She was frowning as though trying to process what he'd just said. Finally comprehension dawned. "Sure, Booth, whatever you say. But I don't get sick. I'm healthy as a—healthy as a—" the frown was back as she searched for the word.

"Horse?" Booth supplied as he pulled out of the parking lot.

She shook her head, still frowning. "No, that's not it. I mean, how could that be it? Horshes get sick all the time. Why else would they need vetri—vetrinar—"

"Veterinarians," Booth finished. Jeez, she was even literal when she was drunk. He turned on the radio, switching to soft jazz, hoping the music would put her to sleep. It worked. Before they'd gone a block her head had lolled back against the headrest and she was snoring softly. He sighed with relief.

She slept all the way to her apartment, so pulling over was never necessary, thank God. Opening her door, Booth reached over to unlock her seatbelt and she chose that moment to wake up. Throwing her arms around his neck, she snuggled into his chest.

"You smell good," she told him.

"Thanks, Bones," he replied, wondering how much of this was her talking and how much was the liquor. Putting his arms around her, he helped her out of the vehicle and supported her while he closed the door and locked it. She started giggling hysterically as he ducked under her arm and put his arm around her waist. He started laughing too. "What's funny?" he finally asked as they made their way to her apartment.

"You called me Bones again," she said, going off in another fit of giggles. He smiled and shook his head. He had a feeling if she ever found out what she was like when she was drunk, she'd never touch another drop of liquor. He didn't want to be the one to tell her.

She insisted on trying to unlock her door, but the hand/eye coordination hadn't gotten any better, so after the second time she dropped the keys, he snatched them up and did it himself. Maneuvering her through the door, he kicked it shut with his foot and headed down the hall to her bedroom. Stopping by the bed, he eased her down to sit on the edge and knelt to remove her shoes. She grabbed him around the neck when he tried to rise.

"Booth?" she asked in a sad voice.

"Hmmm?" he replied, trying to make her lie down. She wouldn't release her death grip on his neck.

"You won't ever leave me, will you?" she asked, her voice small and scared.

He looked into her eyes and found incredible sadness there. His heart squeezed. "No, Bones, I'll never leave you," he assured her somberly.

A pair of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Everybody leaves me," she said softly. "Stay with me? Please?" she pleaded as more tears fell.

He didn't have the heart to deny her. "Okay. Now, lay down." She clutched him tighter and he was startled to find tears in his own eyes. "Bones, I need to take off my shoes, then I'll lay down and hold you, okay?"

Sniffling noisily like a five year old, she nodded and lay back, watching him intently as he removed his shoes. Turning off the light, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Scoot over," he told her. She did and then he was lying next to her and folding her into the warm comfort of his arms. With a deep sigh of contentment, she was asleep. It wasn't until much later that he fell asleep too.

Her dreams seemed to be getting more vivid, because now she was muttering aloud. He had to choke back a laugh as he caught part of what she was saying. "And I swear, that's how the monkey got the peanut butter."


	2. Chapter 2

Why Bones Shouldn't Drink

Part 2

She wasn't sure what woke her, but she knew she wasn't alone. She could feel him. She had her back to him, thank god, so she was able to get her bearings and gather her wits before she had to face him. Finally, unable to stand the suspense another second, she rolled over. Damn! His eyes were open and he was staring at her. She wondered what she'd done. She was still wearing her clothes from last night and it looked like he was fully clothed too, so nothing like THAT had happened.

"Good morning," he murmured with a slight smile, his voice husky.

"Morning," she mumbled, sitting up too quickly. Pain slammed through her brain and she lay back down with a groan, clutching her head. "What happened last night?" she asked painfully.

"You don't remember?" he asked hopefully.

Blinding lights were flashing behind her eyelids and she groaned again. "No. Well, I remember being at the bar and Angela ordered Long Island iced teas…How many did I have?" she asked weakly.

Booth schooled his face into a sympathetic look. "Three or four, maybe more. You don't remember anything else?" he probed.

"No…was I awful?" she asked with dread. There was a reason she usually stuck to beer or the occasional glass of wine. She couldn't handle hard liquor. Those Long Islands hadn't really tasted like liquor. Sneaky little bastards.

Booth firmed his lips, fighting the urge to grin. "No, you really weren't that bad," he assured her. Something in his voice betrayed the suppressed mirth and she peeked at him.

"Oh, god, I WAS awful! What did I do?" she demanded, covering her eyes with both hands.

"You stripped down to your skivvies and danced on the bar. You were actually very good. I didn't know you could dance like that," he teased. She groaned more deeply and he relented. "I'm kidding, really Bones, you weren't bad. You're a pretty happy drunk."

She peeked at him again, trying to gauge his sincerity. His face was serious but there was a suspicious gleam of amusement in his eyes. "I said something embarrassing, didn't I? Tell me," she demanded.

He finally gave up the struggle not to smile. "You told me I was cute and then later you begged me never to leave you," he said finally.

She moaned, back to hiding behind her hands. He heard her mumble something about killing Angela. "Get me some aspirin, please?"

Unable to stop grinning, he rolled out of bed. "Sure, Bones, I'll be right back."

A moment later she felt the bed dip by her hip. Rolling up on her elbow, she took the water and aspirins and gulped them down. Taking the glass from her and setting it on the nightstand, he waited for her to look at him. And waited. And waited. Putting a knuckle under her chin, he tipped her head toward him. "Hey, don't be embarrassed. I know it was just the liquor talking. I didn't take any of it seriously," he assured her.

She studied him for a long moment. "How did we end up…sleeping together?" she asked, unable to think of a less provocative way to say it.

His lips quirked at her wording. "You didn't want me to leave and I didn't have the heart to disappoint you," he said gently. "I think you know nothing happened. You needed me, so I stayed. That simple. No clothing was removed, no kissing, no bodily fluids exchanged." Her eyes dropped and she colored a little. "Just two adults giving each other comfort. Nothing to be ashamed of." Her eyes snapped back up to his and he smiled softly.

Unable to stand another moment of the warm intimacy in his glance, she pulled back and rolled off the other side of the bed, standing carefully lest her head fall off. "Well, good, I mean great." She watched him awkwardly from across the bed. He was looking at her thoughtfully and she felt a lump in her throat at the caring in his look. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Any time, Bones. It's what partners do," he said softly.

She snorted inelegantly. "Right, bet you've never done that for any of your MALE partners."

He stood up. "You're right. But none of them ever asked." She chuckled and he hastened to add, "Not that I ever would, 'cuz I'm not at all—"

"I know what you meant," she said with a grin, enjoying his discomfort.

"So, we're okay?" he asked hopefully.

"More than okay," she said as the smile faded from her face. "Have I ever told you how much I love being your partner?" she asked softly.

He grinned that cocked grin she loved so much. "Not nearly enough, Bones. Right back at you. Now, how about some breakfast? I'm starved."

She groaned, clutching her stomach. "Nothing for me, thanks. Well, except coffee, lots of strong, black coffee."

He chuckled. "Are you sure? 'Cuz I'm thinking some eggs, some bacon, hash browns and pancakes would really hit the spot—"

She groaned again. "Booth! Stop, please. I swear, after this, I'll never touch another Long Island iced tea."

He headed for the kitchen. "That's a shame, Bones, 'cuz you really are cute when you're drunk," he said over his shoulder.

She straightened, alarmed. "Wait, what else did I say? Booth? Booth!" She stalked into the kitchen, determined to make him tell all. But he'd said enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Why Bones Shouldn't Drink

Part 3

Brennan sat at the kitchen table, a cool cloth pressed to her throbbing head. She was sipping a mug of coffee and trying to ignore her complaining stomach. Booth was happily chowing down on eggs and toast, forgoing the hash browns, bacon and pancakes since she didn't have the makings for them. She wished he would hurry up and finish and leave so she could go crawl into bed and die. His cheerfulness was beginning to get on her nerves.

The doorbell rang and she groaned, dropping her head forward to hit the table. Booth jumped up. "I'll get it," he said cheerfully and she rolled her head to the side to watch him walk to the front door.

Angela's open mouth dropped open wider at the sight of Booth at Brennan's door at this hour on a Saturday. Then she smiled brightly. "Hi, Booth! Where's Bren?"

Booth smiled and motioned her in. "She's in the kitchen moaning over her splitting head," he said in a low voice.

Angela stepped in, leaning to look around Booth. "Oh. That bad, eh? Poor thing." She looked Booth up and down, taking in the bare feet, jeans and undershirt. "Did you spend the night?" she asked with a sly smile.

Booth looked down at his toes and back up at Angela. "Uh, yeah, but it isn't what you think," he protested.

Angela nodded and folded her arms. "Uh-huh, so where did you sleep?" she asked suspiciously.

Booth shuffled his feet, looking sheepish. "We, uh, shared the bed. But we didn't—"

Her grin got bigger. "Right. You spent the night in her bed _together_ and nothing happened." Her tone said she wasn't buying it.

Booth sighed. "Is that so hard to believe? I mean, you saw the state she was in last night. She was in no shape to—and this morning, she's so hung over—"

Angela raised her brows, silently prompting him to go on.

"C'mon, Ange, it isn't that way with us," he said in a low voice, glancing over his shoulder to see if Brennan was listening. Her head was still on the table and her eyes had drifted shut and he sighed in relief. "We're friends, partners, we can't—"

"Don't give me that crap," Angela cut in softly. "You're both single, healthy consenting adults. If the attraction is there—and don't tell me it isn't, any idiot could see it—there's no reason not to act on it."

Booth closed his eyes. "I can't believe we're having this conversation," he muttered. He opened his eyes to find Angela studying him intently. He sighed with frustration. "That is between her and me, Angela. Stay out of it," he said more harshly than he'd ever spoken to her before.

Angela stiffened. "Okay, have it your way. I'll say one more thing and I'm dead serious about this, so listen carefully. If you ever decide to go for it, make damn sure it's for keeps. 'Cuz if you hurt her, you'll have to deal with me." Her voice and expression said she wasn't kidding.

Booth met her eyes somberly, "You have nothing to worry about. I'd die before hurting her."

"Ange?" came Brennan's shaky voice. Angela smiled and went past Booth to the kitchen. She hunkered down beside her friend. Brennan was squinting at her.

"Hey, sweetie, you don't look so hot," Angela observed softly. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"I think I'll go now," she said painfully. "Ange? I hate you," she said without heat.

Angela rocked back on her heels. "Wha—"

"Damn Long Island iced teas! About killed me," she said huskily.

Angela somehow managed to keep a straight face. "I know, sweetie. I'm sorry. Did you take some aspirin?" she asked gently.

"No, I thought I'd savor the sensation of my head feeling like it's going to explode just a little longer," she said acidly. "Of course I took some!" she growled a little too loudly, then winced. "What were you and Booth whispering about?"

Angela smirked and glanced up at Booth, who was standing in the kitchen doorway. "Nothing, sweetie. I just wondered how you were doing. How about I help you into your jammies and then into bed?"

Brennan nodded slightly and pushed herself upright. Angela hopped up and leaned down to help her friend get to her feet. She waited for her to get her balance, and with a last look at Booth, helped her to her bedroom.

Booth cleaned up the kitchen, reluctant to leave just yet. He wanted to say goodbye to Bones, but he didn't want to do it with Angela around. Angela came out of the bedroom as he was putting the frying pan away.

"My god, a man who cleans up after himself. I can die a happy woman now," she teased, hoping to restore the easy rapport they had always enjoyed.

Drying the counter with a towel, he smiled at her wryly. "You can thank my mom for that. It was drilled into me from the time I was big enough to stand on a chair at the sink." He put his hands on his hips and turned to face her. "Is she asleep?"

"Drifting in and out, mumbling to herself. I made her drink a whole glass of water with a couple more aspirin. She'll be fine by tomorrow." Angela paused awkwardly. "So, I'll—see ya later?"

He smiled a little, unable to stay mad at her for long. "Sure. Take care, Angela."

The door shut behind her and he took a deep breath, knowing he couldn't put it off any longer. He went to stand by her bed. He could see the pain in her face in the light from the hallway. Her breathing was shallow and he knew she wasn't sleeping.

"Bones?" he asked softly and her eyes slowly opened to stare at him.

"Booth? I thought you left," she said, confused. Was she dreaming? She felt the edge of the bed dip and knew she wasn't.

"Not yet, I wanted to clean up the mess I made in your kitchen. Are you feeling any better?" He reached out to stroke her forehead and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Mmmm, that feels good," she said as his cool fingers moved to stroke her temples. "I'll be okay, Booth. Just need to rest."

His fingers moved down her cheek. "Okay," he murmured. "I think I'm gonna go now, unless you don't want me to." Part of him, the part that didn't understand they were just partners and friends, hoped she'd ask him to stay.

She sighed deeply and looked up at him sleepily, smiling a bit. "No, it's okay. See ya Monday?" she said in a softer voice. She was fading and he smiled at her tenderly.

"Yeah, see ya Monday." He resisted the urge to lean down and kiss her. Even if she didn't remember later, he would and he didn't need a reminder of what could never be.


End file.
